


A Night to Remember

by abberwocky



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, Date Night, Date gone wrong, F/M, Fluff, McMercy, So many tropes, dinner date, tropes galore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 01:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11727111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abberwocky/pseuds/abberwocky
Summary: Jesse takes Angela out on a date, but the night doesn't go according to plan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Missed Day 6 of McMercy week for a number of reasons, so here is a big trope-filled fic to make up for it for Day 7 - Date Night. May or may not have been inspired by Star Wars for the last scene.
> 
> Hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

“LET’S GO ON A DATE, HE SAID,” Angela shrieked between shots. “IT’LL BE FUN, HE SAID!”

“AIN’T MY FAULT THEY’VE GOT IT IN FER ME!” Jesse yelled over the gunfire as he reloaded.

“OH RIGHT, I’LL BE SURE TO HAVE A WORD WITH THE _OTHER_ EX DEADLOCK MEMBER WHO MANAGED TO PISS OFF THE ENTIRE SICILIAN MAFIA!”

“I THOUGHT WE AGREED MY PAST WAS IN THE PAST?”

“YOUR _PAST_ IS CURRENTLY TRYING TO KILL US, JESSE!”

Of course, the evening hadn’t started like this. In fact, it had been very much the opposite.


	2. Chapter 2

Weary from her busy shift, Angela returned to her room to find a single rose and a cryptic message placed delicately on her bed. She giggled and sniffed the rose as she read his note; it simply said:

_“Come fly with me, darlin’?_

_P.S. Get your glad rags on.”_

Giggling to herself, the doctor flitted through her wardrobe, wondering exactly what Jesse had in store for her in the air hangar. Eventually she settled on a floaty white dress with a cowl neck and a simple gold necklace. It wasn’t often she got dressed up, so she couldn’t help but admire herself in the mirror for a little while. She couldn’t keep him waiting, though, so set off through HQ, humming the Sinatra show tune to herself and twiddling the rose between her fingers.

“Jesse?” Her call echoed out into the dimly-lit hangar.

“Howdy.”

Angela followed the sound of his voice to find him leaning against one of the Overwatch private jets, reserved only for hosting world leaders. An inquisitive smile spread across her lips as she neared him, taking in his new well-groomed appearance. His hair was smoothed down and he wore a black suit and waistcoat with a white shirt and burgundy tie.

“My, my…” she remarked. “You do scrub up well, cowboy.” Jesse extended his hand towards her; she took it and he twirled her around.

“And you’re lookin’ rather lovely yerself, angel.” Once she had pivoted he pulled her in close and kissed her sweetly. Angela walked her fingers along his chest and shoulder.

“So, what are we doing tonight, _Schöner_?” He smiled and led her to the jet’s descending steps.

“Let’s get outta here, Angie.” He began to board and gestured towards its grand interior. “Whaddya say?”

“Jesse…” Her hand recoiled to her collarbone in somewhat awe. “How on earth did you get permission to use the jet?”

“Don’t you worry about that,” he grinned, extending his hand.

With baited breath she took it and together they boarded the jet. It was incredible – Angela had heard of its grandeur, but had never had the honour of being in it herself. The furnishings were a clean lightwood, complimented by cream leather seats and an impressive array of drinks from all over the world. Jesse then led her through to the cockpit and she was equally blown away by its state of the art controls.

“ _Unglaublich…_ ” she breathed.

“Yup,” he agreed, starting up the controls. “Buckle up, then once we’re in the air we’ve got about an hour to enjoy our time on here.”

“I still can’t believe you pulled this off, Jesse.”

As the engine roared into life and they began to move, Athena’s automated voice blared into the hangar.

_“UNAUTHORISED DEPARTURE IN HANGAR ONE.”_

Angela slowly turned to the idiot cowboy, who was currently grinning like a naughty schoolboy. He glanced her way and winked.

“Jesse”-

“What?” he shrugged, ignoring her glare. “I’m just commandeering it fer the night…”

“You’re unbelievable.”

The doctor sank into the co-pilot seat, accepting her fate as the jet rushed out of the hangar, already on its flightpath. Yet a small smirk still found its way onto her lips; it was kind of exciting to break the rules…

Once at altitude, she unbuckled and allowed him to lead her back into the lap of luxury. He noted the look on her face and chuckled.

“See? This ain’t so bad, is it?”

“Well, why should the bigshots have this all to themselves?” she giggled.

“That’s the spirit!” He sat her down and fetched over a bottle of champagne and two flutes.

“Goodness! I did not take you for a champagne man, Jesse.”

“Only on very special occasions,” he grinned, kissing her on the lips before uncorking the bottle.

The golden liquid bubbling away, they clinked their flutes together and took a sip. It was the perfect balance between dry and sweet. Angela couldn’t help but laugh at Jesse’s scrunched up face as he tried to mask his distaste for it.

“Jesse, if you don’t like it…”

“Nah, it’s…” He took another swig and shuddered. “Oh who am I kiddin’? Would you mind if I poured myself some of that fine lookin’ scotch instead?”

“Why on earth would I mind?” she teased, swiping his flute out of his hand. “More for me!”

He gladly rushed to the bar and returned with an ornate bottle and tumbler. As soon as the golden brown liquid passed his lips, he let out an incredibly satisfied sigh. Together they drank and sat in a comfortable silence; after a while Angela swung her legs up and rested them on his lap.

“So, you still haven’t told me where we’re going, _Schöner_.”

“You never asked.”

“Okay, where are we going?”

“Now that would be tellin’.” He winked and she kicked his knee – should have known better.

“Well, if we’re only in the air for an hour then it can’t be far,” she commented through another sip. “So clearly we’re staying in Europe.”

“Alright, smarty-pants,” he chortled, leaning over and planting a kiss on her lips. “How about you stop tryin’ to work it out and just enjoy the ride?”

Angela set down her glass and kissed him back, letting him pull her into his lap. As their kisses became more heated, a thought entered the doctor’s mind and she couldn’t keep the smirk off her face. He noticed this and prised her away for a second.

“Whatcha thinkin’, angel?” he murmured. She looked him in the eyes.

“I’ve always wanted to be a member of The Mile High Club,” she whispered excitedly.

“Now what’s that?” Angela gasped slightly, then gently pushed him back, running a hand down his chest.

“What’s The Mile High Club? Oh _liebling_ , let me show you…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Latest chapter for now, but I hope to write more soon :)

“Best. Club. Ever.”

Dishevelled and ever so slightly spent, Angela and Jesse lay sprawled out on the briefing table, a good few metres from where they had started. Damn, that had been good.

_“If you two are quite finished…”_

“WAH!”

They bolted upright and brushed themselves down, looking around for the disembodied voice. Then it clicked with her and once again she found herself glaring at Jesse.

“Really? You forgot to deactivate Athena!?”

“Might’ve done…” Angela clasped a hand to her face.

 _“Lucky for you, an AI cannot be mentally scarred for life.”_ Damn Winston for installing her a sass module.  
_“I thought you would like to know that we are approaching our destination.”_

“Uh, thanks Athena…” McCree muttered awkwardly, zipping himself up on the way to the cockpit. Angela rolled her eyes and took to the bathroom to sort herself out.

By the time she looked presentable again, the seatbelt light had come on, so she re-joined her idiot boyfriend in the cockpit and buckled up. Although she tried to emit an angry vibe and he a bashful one, neither of them could suppress a quiet snicker. Angela’s attention was then turned to the lights down below, and what looked like the glimmer of the ocean in the distance.

“An island…?”

_“Welcome to Sicily, agents.”_

She turned to Jesse in delight and pecked him on the lips. Having grown up in Switzerland, she had been to mainland Italy many a time, but never its islands. The cowboy, looking rather pleased with himself, leaned back into his seat.

“Got us a reservation at the best lil pizzeria you ever did see,” he grinned.

“You’ve been here before?” she enquired eagerly.

“Always the tone of surprise,” he chuckled. “I may be an ignorant American, but I’ve been around.”

“How wonderful…” she sighed, then took his hand and squeezed it. “Thank you, Jesse.”

“Heh, don’t thank me yet, darlin’.”

*

Wonderful had been an understatement. The food was incredible, the wine exquisite, and the company just perfect. Jesse reached across, took her hand and kissed it softly.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed tonight, angel.”

“I could not have asked for a more perfect evening. Thank you so much, Jesse.”

“No, thank _you_ , darlin’.”

Their fingers locked and they rested them on the table, fixated in one another’s gaze. As time went on, the buzz around them seemed to fade and it felt like they were the only two in the room. A shiver down her back then threw her concentration, and Angela realised it was because they _were_ the only two in the room. The shiver turned into a cold sweat as a suited man stepped into view behind Jesse.

“Jesse McCree…” he said in a thick accent. The cowboy’s face dropped.

“Gianni!” he trilled shakily as more of them appeared. “What a pleasure it is runnin’ into you fellas! See, I was just”-

“You’re a dead man. We loaned you five thousand for that job. And we heard you also borrowed five thousand from I Rossi. We want it back!”

“Well I spent it!” Jesse protested. The man’s eyes narrowed. “But it is comin’ back yer way, with interest.”

“I Rossi want their investment back too.”

“I never made a deal with I Rossi!”

“Tell that to I Rossi.”

From the other side of the restaurant emerged another clan of suited men. Slowly they rose from their chairs and backed away from them, Jesse spewing every imaginable excuse under the sun. The gap between them rapidly closing, Angela grabbed his hand.

“Jesse, I hope you have a plan…” she hissed through gritted teeth.

“I was just gonna talk my way out of it like I always do.”

“You _never_ talk your way out of anything!”

“Yes I do! Every time!” The men neared them still, their hands reaching inside their jackets. He gulped and tightened his grip around her hand.  
“Buuut on this occasion I think my message may have been lost in translation. RUN!”


End file.
